


Valentine's Challenge: Fourteen Days of Olicity

by storyteller0311



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-11
Updated: 2016-02-11
Packaged: 2018-05-19 18:11:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5976391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storyteller0311/pseuds/storyteller0311
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Responses to the Tumblr February 2016 Olicity Fic Challenge! Lots of fluff and, of course, Olicity goodness.</p><p>Chapter 1: Blanket Fort<br/>Chapter 2: "Throw Your Ex Here" written above garbage can<br/>Chapter 3: You are not the same person who gave me their phone number...<br/>Chapter 4: You came to take care of me after surgery and now you're sick and what are we supposed to do?<br/>Chapter 5: Adorable sleeping baby nestled on top of adorable sleeping dog.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Blanket Fort

**Author's Note:**

> Yay for Olicity challenges! All prompts from olicityficchallenge on Tumblr.
> 
> All chapters originally posted on Tumblr under my username storyteller0311. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow or the characters Oliver Queen or Felicity Smoak.

“You better not drop me,” Felicity laughed as she tightened her hold around Oliver’s neck. She’s still wasn’t used to him carrying her down the steep loft steps and having him do it while her eyes are closed was just bizarre.

“I’m not going to drop you,” he half groaned, half laughed as they neared the bottom of the stairs. “Hey! No peeking!” Oliver said quickly as Felicity shifted her head from where it rested in the crook of his neck.

“Fine,” she grumbled with a smile, “I won’t peek. But this surprise better be good. Like mint chocolate chip and the new season of Doctor Who good.”

Oliver chuckled lightly but didn’t say anything, tightening his hold around her middle as his feet hit the last step.

“Okay,” he said, taking a deep breath. “Open your eyes.”

Felicity wasn’t sure what she expected to see when she opened her eyes, but it wasn’t their darkened living room awash in the light of dozens of candles and strands of white lights.

The entire room had been transformed. The coffee table was missing and both sofas had been pushed away from their normal spots. In their place was a massive canopy of white, illuminated by even more twinkling white lights. The side facing them was open, revealing a floor covered in masses of pillows and blankets. A small stool inside held a bottle of wine and glasses, and Oliver had even set up a TV at one end.

Turning to look up at him, Felicity was nearly caught off guard by the smile lighting up Oliver’s face.

“Oliver…” she murmured, warmth suffusing her body.

“Happy Engagement,” he said softly, before stepping off the last stair and walking towards the middle of the room. “We didn’t get to celebrate…and I thought we needed to.”

“When did you do all this?” Felicity asked, a note of wonder in her voice. Because, really, when did he do all this? “Did you do all this?”

“Hey, are you doubting my blanket fort building abilities?” Oliver asked, a look of mock indignation on his face, as he steps onto the bed of pillows and sits her down gently.

“No,” she said, “but I was only upstairs for a little over an hour.”

“Did you know you’re an epic napper?” Oliver asked, sitting down next to her and leaning over to pull the canopy closed.

“Well,” she said, quirking her eyebrow at him, “I did buy us a really comfortable bed.”

“You did,” Oliver replied softly, closing the distance between them and taking her lips in his.

Felicity would never get tired of this, the way his lips slanted over hers, the way he nipped at her lower lip, the way his tongue sought entry into her mouth, the way his hands threaded through her hair.

Grasping the fabric of his t-shirt in her hands, Felicity deepened the kiss as tingling feelings shot throughout her arms and torso.

His kisses had been vital to her since her injury, reminding her of the happiness amidst the sadness, the pleasure amidst the pain.

Slowly the kiss ended, his hands cupping the sides of her face as he pecked small kisses along her jaw towards her ear.

“I love you,” he whispered, sending a shiver through her.

“I love you, too,” she said, pulling back to look at him.

Reaching behind him, Oliver poured each of them a glass of wine.

“To us,” he murmured as he handed her her glass.

“To many more blanket forts,” she toasted back softly, trying not to think too much about what those forts might look like and what the future might bring.

“Many, many more,” Oliver responded, taking Felicity’s glass from her hand and leaning down to kiss her again as the lights twinkled above them.


	2. Trash Your Ex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Trash can in alley with "Throw Your Ex Here" written above it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay for Olicity challenges! All prompts from olicityficchallenge on Tumblr.
> 
> All chapters originally posted on Tumblr under my username storyteller0311. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow or the characters Oliver Queen or Felicity Smoak.

Oliver walks into the alley expecting to find Felicity waiting for him in the car. Instead, she’s standing 10 feet in front of him staring at the brick wall lined with garbage cans.

“Felicity,” he says, trying to get her attention.

“This is going to make us a fortune…” she mumbles from where she stands, otherwise ignoring him.

“Fel-i-city?”

“Hmm?”

“Whatcha doin?” Oliver asks, unable to keep the laugh out of his voice.

“What?” she asks, whirling around in surprise.

“Hi,” Oliver says with a grin, “nice of you to acknowledge my presence. So, what’s going to make us a fortune?”

“Oh,” she says with a shrug before pointing pointing to the wall behind her. “It’s kind of brilliant, isn’t it?”

“Throw your ex here?” Oliver asks, reading the graffiti above the garbage can. “Should I, um, be worried?”

“No!” Felicity laughs, leaning up to give him a quick kiss on the lips. “But it is a good idea isn’t it?”

Before he can ask her for clarification, she’s bounding to the car.

“I’m so confused,” Oliver mumbles, as he follows the love of his life to the car.

* * *

 

**_Six Months Later_ **

_“The financial world is abuzz this morning with the quarterly earnings report coming out of Palmer Technologies. More surprising than the percentage revenue increase is the reason behind it. It turns out that the blockbuster app “Trash Your Ex” taking the internet by storm was actually developed by a small subsidiary of Palmer Tech called FSQ Media. The team behind FSQ has remained anonymous and Palmer Tech CEO Felicity Smoak has withheld any comment on the app. Her silence will have to end eventually since the app, at a cost of 99 cents, has been downloaded more than 50 million times in the last 2 months….”_

Muting the TV, Felicity turned to where Oliver sat next to her on the sofa.

“See? I told you I was going to make us a fortune,” she smiled.

“I’m not sure what surprises me more…that you designed an app that lets people draw and write all over pictures of their exes and throw them in the virtual trash or that 50 million people bought the app,” Oliver said shaking his head.

“Well, this is the same country that spent more than a billion dollars on an app featuring Kim Kardashian…” Felicity countered, laying her head on Oliver’s shoulder.

“True,” he replied, kissing her forehead. “I’m sure the Palmer Tech board is happy.”

“That they are,” she sighed. “Otherwise they’d have been throwing me in the trash.”

“You? Never,” he chuckles. “Me, on the other hand…I’m afraid to know how many times I’ve been put in the trash.”

“Aw, I’d never put you in the trash. Just keep bringing me mint chocolate chip ice cream. We could probably buy about a million pints…”

“You think they’ll figure it out?” he asked suddenly, a grin on his face.

“What?”

“FSQ Media.”

“Oh, that. Probably,” she said slyly. “But the real question is whether they’re more shocked that I designed the app personally or that FSQ stands for Felicity Smoak Queen.”

“Mmm…” Felicity murmured looking down at her left hand. “Never underestimate the popularity of a secret celebrity wedding…”


	3. Maybe This Was A Bad Idea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: “So you wrote your phone number on a napkin and then I called that number to ask you out but “you” just arrived and you look NOTHING like what I remembered. oh no. I think I called the wrong number.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay for Olicity challenges! All prompts from olicityficchallenge on Tumblr.
> 
> All chapters originally posted on Tumblr under my username storyteller0311. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow or the characters Oliver Queen or Felicity Smoak.

_“Hi, I’m sorry I missed your call earlier. I, uh, usually don’t meet people like this but, let’s meet tonight at 7 at the coffee shop on the corner of 3rd and Commerce. If I don’t hear from you I’ll assume you’re able to make it. Thanks. Bye.”_

Oliver looked at his watch after listening to the message again, verifying he was at the right coffee shop.

7:15. She was late.

At 7:05, he’d texted her to say he’d snagged a booth in the back of the very crowded coffee shop, but she hadn’t responded.

Now ten minutes later, the thought that this was a bad idea increasingly spread through him. Because asking a random woman who’d flirted with him and given him her phone number out on a date was…crazy, right? Especially in this day and age.

Pre-island Oliver Queen would be laughing hysterically if he could hear his thoughts, because pre-island Oliver would have grabbed the woman by the hand 2 minutes into the flirtation and had her screaming his name within the hour. He wouldn’t have asked her on a real date and then felt stupid when she didn’t show up.

_This really was a bad idea._

Still looking at his phone, he is startled when a blonde woman whirls into the booth like a tornado, setting a laptop bag down next to her.

“I’m so, so sorry that I’m late,” she exclaims. “I know I said 7, but I got stuck at work and then it started pouring and traffic is a nightmare. I should have just told you I couldn’t meet tonight, but you sounded so nice on the phone and I need a project to help me decompress right now…and, oh my god, you’re not just any Oliver. You’re Oliver Queen.”

Oliver isn’t sure what to say. He isn’t even sure what to think. But he is sure that his mouth was gaping open and he should probably shut it.

_“Not just any Oliver.”_

_Huh?_

“I - uh…Hi. I’m sorry, but I think you have the wrong table,” he finally manages to say, still trying to weed through her babble.

The woman’s blue eyes grow wide behind her glasses as she scrambles to grab her phone out of her pocket.

“Frack,” she mutters under her breath. “You’re not here for me to look at your laptop, are you?” she asks, looking across the table and noticing that his only accessory is his jacket.

“No,” he replies, “I – I’m here on, well, on a date.”

“Oh! I’m so sorry,” she exclaims, turning her attention back to her phone. “I just don’t understand how I’m in the wrong place. I got a text and everything from the client I’m supposed to meet. And I swear you sound just like him. And, I mean how many Olivers can there be? But why would Oliver Queen – like, back from the dead, my boss’s boss’s boss’s stepson Oliver Queen – need my help with a computer. And I can’t believe I’m still talking, which I’m going to do in 3…2…1…”

By the time the mystery woman stops her babble, Oliver is smiling from ear to ear. And when he realizes what he’s doing, a jolt of shock goes through him. He can’t remember the last time he genuinely smiled. But he can’t help it, the more he watches this tornado of a woman talk, the more he realizes that she is…absolutely breathtaking.

And that’s when her words finally, truly catch up to him.

“I’m sorry,” he says, “did you say you’re supposed to be meeting someone named Oliver?”

“Yes,” she replies, “and I can’t figure out how you’re not him. I swear you called me. You’re sure you’re not supposed to be meeting me?”

“I’m sure,” he says, looking at his watch. 7:25. Still no date. “I’ve seen the woman I’m meeting tonight…and you’re not her.”

“Oh,” she murmurs. “well, do you mind if I sit here for one minute and try to call the person I’m supposed to meet? So I don’t have to stand awkwardly in the entryway?”

“Of course,” he says with a soft smile.

She puts the phone to her ear and…his phone starts ringing. He looks up at her with wide eyes as he answers the call, “Hello?”

“Hi,” she says from across the table. “I knew I wasn’t crazy…”

Dropping the phone from his ear, he looks at her bewildered. “Wait. I’m so confused…”

“Can I see your phone?” she asks, reaching across the table.

“This is definitely my phone number,” she confirms a moment later, his phone in her hand. “But if you didn’t call me about a computer…how did you get my number?”

“I – uh, met a woman at a bar last night. We hit it off, or at least I thought we did. She wrote her number on a napkin…” he admits, now really thinking how bad of an idea this all was.

“Oh, well, maybe you read it wrong?” she asks.

“I don’t think so,” he says, pulling the napkin out of his pocket and setting it on the table for her to see.

“Nope,” she says, “you’re right. That’s definitely my number…wait.” She turns the napkin fully toward her looking at the imprinted name at the bottom. “You were at the Velvet Room?”

“Yeah, why?” Oliver asks, confused.

“What time was this? What did the woman at the bar look like?”

“It was around 9. Maybe a little before. And she was brunette, pretty…she mentioned she was a doctor…but come to think of it, we really didn’t talk about anything in particular. She was just nice, didn’t make a big deal over the fact I was Oliver Queen. And then she passed me her number and left.”

“Is this her?” she asks, holding up her phone to him, a photo displayed on the screen.

“Yes!” he says, immediately recognizing the woman in the photo.

“Oh, my god, she did it again!” she groans. “I’m going to kill her.”

“Sorry?” he asks, his confusion growing.

“This,” she says gesturing to the phone, “is my best friend. Dr. Caitlin Snow. We met at MIT. Every time she comes to Starling to visit she does this. We meet at the Velvet Room for drinks, she goes early and finds a nice guy at the bar and gives them my number. And every time it’s a disaster…not that, not that you’re a disaster. You’re great. And definitely nice. And very hot…and, oh my god, make me stop talking.”

Oliver can’t help it. He starts laughing. At her words, at how ridiculous the situation is. And pretty soon, she’s laughing too.

“Well, we can’t say her plan didn’t kind of work…” Oliver finally says.

“What do you mean?” she asks.

“We’ve been sitting here for the last 35 minutes…and I think we might be kind of on a date.”

“Yeah, the weirdest, most convoluted date ever, complete with case of mistaken identity.”

“Speaking of identity,” he says, “I still don’t know your name.”

“Oh!” she exclaims, before holding out her hand. “Felicity Smoak.”

“Hi,” he says with a smile, taking her hand in his. “I’m Oliver Queen.”


	4. Close Your Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: ‘You came to take care of me after my surgery but now you’re sick and what are we supposed to do now?’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay for Olicity challenges! All prompts from olicityficchallenge on Tumblr.
> 
> All chapters originally posted on Tumblr under my username storyteller0311.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow or the characters Oliver Queen or Felicity Smoak.

“We’re a mess,” Felicity groans as she gingerly lays her head back on the pillow, pin pricks of pain shooting through her temples as she throws an arm across her eyes in an effort to block out the bright sunlight streaming in through the window.

“Yep” Oliver whispers, his voice hoarse.

“I can’t believe I have a migraine,” she mumbles softly after a few moments, slowly turning onto her side to face Oliver on the bed. Opening her eyes slightly, she could see his eyes were closed but she knew he was completely awake.

“I can’t believe I had to get my tonsils out,” he replies softly, peeking one eye open at her.

“How’s your throat?” she asks, trying to ignore her throbbing head and the slowly growing feeling of nausea.

“Hurts,” he whispers. “How’s your head?”

“Hurts,” she says, her voice turning from a whisper into a whimper. “Trying not to throw up. Don’t know if my head could handle that.”

The room falls silent again, as Felicity tries to focus on anything but her headache. But the more she tries to ignore it, the more she thinks about it.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers all of a sudden, unable to stop the tear that leaks from the corner of her eye.

“Hey –” Oliver whispers, his eyes now fully open and focused on her. “Why are you sorry?”

“Because – because I’m supposed to be taking care of you and I’m no help at all. In fact, I’m in worse shape than you and I didn’t even have surgery…”

Suddenly, the foot or so of space between them is gone as Oliver scoots toward her.

“What –?” she starts, looking at him with confusion.

“Shh,” he whispers. “Close your eyes. Just breathe.”

Felicity doesn’t have the strength to argue or wonder what he’s doing. She just closes her eyes and breathes in and out, trying to will the nausea away.

Suddenly, all she feels and can focus on are Oliver’s hands. They’re on her face, his fingers skimming across her forehead, kneading lightly into her temples and then on her scalp, threading through her hair.

“Just breathe,” he repeats softly, his fingers and words distracting her from the persistent pain and nausea.

Felicity is focused on the stroking across her forehead and startles when one of Oliver’s hands lands on her stomach.

“Ol –”

“Shh,” he repeats, the hand on her stomach brushing in soft circles on top of her t-shirt.

Felicity can’t help herself from opening her eyes. When she does she’s surprised by what she sees.

Oliver’s head is laying next to hers on her pillow, his eyes closed and an almost indescribable look on his face as he continues to stroke her head and stomach. Peace. It’s a look of peace. And something else that she’s afraid to name.

Looking at him she realizes that her nausea is gone, and instead a warm, bubbly feeling is flooding through her. A feeling that grows with every stoke of Oliver’s fingers.

Her eyes growing heavy, Felicity continues to focus on Oliver’s fingers on her forehead as sleep slowly claims her.

“Oliver, are you awake?” Diggle calls softly through the door before pushing it open. “I tried to call Felicity to get your dinner orders but she didn’t answer and she’s not –” Diggle stops mid-sentence as he takes in the sight in front of him.

The room is semi-dark, illuminated by the setting sun, but Dig can make out the figures on the bed just fine.

Felicity is curled on her side and Oliver is right behind her his face buried in her hair, one hand splayed across her stomach and the other resting on top of her head.

“I’m not even gonna ask,” Dig whispers as he backs out of the room with a huge grin on his face.

 _But I will tell this story at their wedding one day_ , he thinks as he shuts the door.


	5. Amazing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Photo of adorable sleeping baby nestled on top of adorable sleeping dog.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay for Olicity challenges! All prompts from olicityficchallenge on Tumblr.
> 
> All chapters originally posted on Tumblr under my username storyteller0311.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow or the characters Oliver Queen or Felicity Smoak.

“Have you ever seen anything more adorable?” Lyla asks, coming up behind where Felicity stands in the doorway taking a picture on her phone.

Felicity startles, a blush flooding her cheeks at getting caught staring.

“No, I haven’t,” she admits quietly, as she continues her gaze at Lyla and Dig’s month old son nestled on top of the sleeping dog.

“It’s amazing,” Lyla says, coming to stand next to her. “Something about Bear’s breathing lulls Michael to sleep and Bear just lets him lie there…”

“Amazing,” Felicity murmurs. She can’t describe the feeling that rockets through her as she stands there – something part of her can’t even believe she’s feeling.

The closing door behind her alerts them to Diggle and Oliver’s return and stirs Michael from his slumber, his little face screwing up into a scowl.

Even as Lyla picks him up, soothing his cries, Felicity still can’t look away and the realization of that sends a bolt of fear through her. But it’s fear mixed with excitement. And that’s what scares her.

“Hey –” Oliver murmurs as they walk into the loft later that night. “Are you okay? You were awfully quiet during dinner.”

“Hmm?” Felicity asks distractedly, toeing her shoes off in front of the sofa.

“I asked if you’re alright,” he says, coming to stand in front of her and cup his cheek in her hand.

“Oh, I’m fine,” she says, “just tired.”

“It was a good night, wasn’t it?” he asks, a soft smile on his face.

“Yeah,” she replies, taking his hand and pulling him down onto the sofa next to her. “It was good to spend a non-Arrow related evening with our friends.”

“Yeah,” he murmurs. “Dig is so happy. Lyla too.”

“Sara’s still adjusting,” Felicity grins, “but she loves her baby brother, even if he’s upset her whole world a little bit.”

“Oh,” Felicity says, pulling her phone out of her pocket. “I wanted to show you…” she trails off.

She scrolls to the photo she took of a sleeping Michael and Bear. “You and Diggle had gone to pick up the food…isn’t it the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen?”

Oliver looks at the phone with an unreadable look on his face, one that makes Felicity’s chest actually hurt because she thinks that’s what her face might have looked like earlier.

“I –”

“Fel –”

They speak at the same time causing Felicity to chuckle and Oliver to grin.

“Go ahead,” she says.

“No, you.”

“I…” she says, trailing off. She knows what she wants to say, the thought that’s been churning through her brain for the last 4 hours clamoring to be said. “I…”

“Me too,” Oliver says suddenly, his eyes not wavering from hers.

“How do you – really?” Felicity asks, tears pricking at the back of her eyes.

“Really,” Oliver whispers, cupping her face in one hand and stroking his thumb across her cheek.

“But are we ready?” she asks. “I – I’m scared, but I…I want it. I look at him and at Sara too and I realize I…I want that. I never thought I’d want it so badly, but…”

“I know,” he murmurs. “It’s scary. But it’ll be amazing too.”

“It will be,” she says, leaning up to kiss him lightly. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”


End file.
